


Gaura

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:13:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28726395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Legolas shows a new accessory to the watchman.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 22
Kudos: 77





	Gaura

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Though Aragorn has every ounce of focus on the woods around him, hyper aware of every distant owl and hushed cricket, he wouldn’t notice Legolas’ approach if not for years of practice. The trampling of an orc is easy to pick up, the doddering of Men and Dwarves simple enough, Halflings tricky but less so for one so skilled, yet elves are another thing entirely, and Legolas is somehow even more graceful than most. He glides through the woods like a sweet phantom, soles barely touching the earth, hands rising to one tree after the other and speaking that deep language that Aragorn’s mortal ears can’t quite detect. But he’s spent so much of his life attuned to Legolas, so thoroughly entranced and fascinated by Legolas, that he’s well practiced in the art of Legolas’ approach. He turns his head before Legolas’ arm stretches out, and by the time those delicate fingers close around his shoulder, his eyes have found Legolas’ clear light amidst the dark.

Legolas smiles as though he expected no less attention. He was moving with deliberation too, slow and steady by Aragorn’s calculation, as though he didn’t wish to wake all their companions. Aragorn can hear Gimli’s snoring several paces away. He imagines the hobbits have settled down too, or else he would catch their rustling about the leaves, rambunctious as they are. Clearly, they didn’t pass out the second Aragorn left for watch, as the crown across Legolas’ temple doesn’t bear the meticulous craftsmanship of dwarves or the flowing talent of elves. Aragorn can’t imagine Boromir weaving such a thing, although he must’ve smiled to see the hobbits do it.

They did a marvelous job. Aragorn turns around to get a proper look, to eye the long green stems woven in a lilting circle around Legolas’ bright gold hair. White-blue flowers are interspersed amongst the leaves, dotted here and there with tiny pink-purple blossoms, even a yellow buttercup at the very front and center. The crown is simple, made of only the plants around them, and yet bursts with life, full and wide, framing Legolas beautifully. Granted, he’s always beautiful. The circlet only enhances that handsomeness to the point where Aragorn wishes all the more fervently that they were at either one of their homes, so that the artists there could paint or compose a song on the picture: it’s a sight worthy of remembrance.

Of course, Aragorn will remember it—it’ll stay locked in his heart, like so many little moments with the fairest creature he’s ever met. Like all the best ones, this is so unexpected. Their journey’s been a perilous one, weary and mundane. But little moments still crop up to remind him what he’s fighting for.

Though the approval on Aragorn’s face must be evident, Legolas asks, “Do you like it, then?” He tilts his head, as though to model it, and every angle is as stunning as the last. “Merry and Pippin gifted it to me, and I suspect Frodo’s sophisticated eye and Sam’s green thumb gave a good bit of help.”

“It’s lovely,” Aragorn answers, only half meaning their work and the rest meaning the model himself. “Though they picked an odd time for it.” They’ve certainly been in better woods, both thicker and thinner, and fields with plenty more colours to include. Legolas shrugs his shoulders and spreads his hands, as though to say he doesn’t understand them any more than he understands dwarves, though he’s made great strides in that arena since befriending Gimli.

“Somehow my title came up again. Apparently they thought a prince needs a crown.”

“And they picked a fine one for you.” Better even than those wrought of gold and gems that he’s seen in other lands. Legolas is as much a creature of the land as all his kind, more so perhaps. The fresh white daisies look right at home tucked behind his pointed ears. 

“I admit I also like it. It reminds me something of my father’s, though he might tear it from my head if he knew where it came from.”

“Well, I think it even nicer than his,” Aragorn chuckles, though he’s seen several different crowns upon Thranduil’s great head, and every one was gorgeous. “Then again, I might be biased by the elf it’s on.”

“You make me glad I came to show you.”

“Is that all you came for? I thought for sure you were here to distract me from duty.”

Legolas laughs, pure and clear, and must know that he’s already achieved that; it’s hard to focus on the dangers of the night with such ethereal splendor before him. It’s all he can do not to extend an arm and ask to set Legolas on a nearby log as his throne, and keep him there throughout the watch. 

But Aragorn is noble enough to put protecting others over his own pleasure. He nods back towards camp and bids Legolas, “You should return. I won’t be of much use as a guard while I’m so dazzled by my prince.”

Legolas’ grin is both fond and sly—he knows what he’s tempted. But he also knows that anything else will have to wait until Boromir’s taken over, or Gimli after that. With a slight bow of his head, Legolas retreats the way he came. When he turns, a single daisy slips out of the web and flutters down to the dirt. Aragorn bends to pick it up but holds back from chasing after the prince it fell from. Instead, he tucks it into the pocket of his tunic, and thinks on it through the rest of his long shift alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to r0ckybastard for [amazing fanart!](https://imgur.com/a/0aaoV3Y)


End file.
